


Sticks, Stones, and Metal Bones

by retrovertigo (ellameno)



Series: The Great Fire [12]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Banter, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bonding, Canon Compliant, Detectives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Investigations, Mentor/Protégé, Mystery, Protectiveness, Relationship Discussions, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Burn, Small Towns, Touch-Starved, Training, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellameno/pseuds/retrovertigo
Summary: Detective-in-Training Nora fights a new kind of battle while on a case, and her mentor performs some fancy footwork.





	Sticks, Stones, and Metal Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy I would've updated in November but I was focusing all my time on NaNo! Here's what's probably the last chapter of the year, though knowing how I did like 4 updates last December I feel like I'm ripping you off a little. We'll see what happens. Til then, have at it!
> 
> Thanks to [seaweedredandbrown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seaweedredandbrown/pseuds/seaweedredandbrown) and [Coldharbour](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coldharbour) for beta-reading.

         Two day's walk for a case was a trek Nick normally deemed too far for Nora to bother with, but here they were on the tail end of the spring afternoon with a just a mile left to go. From the time he announced it a week prior she made a few fruitless attempts prodding for specifics. Nora was more than eager to join him on such a lengthy journey, yet puzzled as to why he needed her for “another produce theft.”

         “Trust me, you’ll get it,” he had finally said at her doorstep. “And we’ll need the pup too.”

         Of course, the attorney inside her could wheedle answers from an evasive source with ease, but her respect for Nick kept her in check. When he became ambiguous, it was often on emotional grounds, though she hoped that wasn’t his reason this time.

         It became clear early on this venture had no need for a navigator. Nick lead the way with such confidence, Nora rarely checked her PipBoy map except out of sheer curiosity. At this point they were nearly at the edge of the New Hampshire border. If someone back in the day had told her that she’d eventually walk from her Concord suburb to another state entirely, well... Well on second thought, it was easier to believe than her solving mysteries alongside a clockwork detective.

         Currently, Nick was on tangent, and one she presumed he’d unleashed before on whoever’s ear he had at the time.

         “Sometimes I wonder how the rest of the world is faring, y'know?” he ruminated. “We all assume the bombs were worldwide and not just continental-- since no one’s made contact-- but we can’t _really know_ for sure. Are we just a mess while some place like... New Zealand is pristine, full of thriving cities and avoiding us like the plague?” He chuckled. “I wouldn't blame them. It's not like we were doing much good in the end.”

         “One of the few improvements now that the world is over is that I’m not required by law to be patriotic anymore.”

         “Damn, that _was_ a thing. Slipped my mind. Luckily I wasn’t a beat cop when public dissension became an arrestable offense.” He glanced at her and then did a double take. “ _Goodness_ , your husband was serving during the worst of it. How’d he stand it?”

         “With clenched teeth,” Nora said, recalling Nate’s pacing rants whenever he was on leave.

         “Yeah, well, I woulda got lockjaw.”

         “And now here we are, moseying from colony to colony like it’s the frontier times.”

         “Speakin’ of...” Nick said as their path began to arc around a rock face.

         She hadn’t anticipated the settlement to be as massive as it was, easily thrice the size of Diamond City. Nestled against what was once an old mine, a towering and sturdy barrier of tires and chain-link secured it where the natural stone wall did not. A vast sweeping meadow splayed out in front of the bulwark; a grazing area where farmhands watched their numerous cattle. The tall grass hissed in the wind and wafted a damp earthy scent, leading Nora to conclude the region was prone to downpours.

         According to Nick it was a livestock town, so though the grounds were sizable the actual population inside was quite minuscule. Animals bred here eventually went to neighboring farms and settlements via caravaneers. Traffic both directions was a constant, but most everyone recognized the traders who moved to and fro.

         “Here, hold your horses a second,” Nick said, gently turning her to him. “Need to smarten you up so they don’t presume you’re just some scavver.” He adjusted the lapels on her military jacket and tidied her unruly locks.

         “Should I change my clothes?” she questioned, knowing how sweaty and flecked with dirt she was at this point.

         “No, no-- not _too_ smartened up, ‘cause then they won’t believe you’re a wastelander.”

         “Well, I’m not exactly one either.”

         “I meant more of a, uh, shadowy boogeyman type than a Vault experiment, ‘specially with my plastic hide in tow. Folks livin’ so far on the outskirts tend to have a surplus of paranoia.”

         Upon arriving at the entrance, Nora noted how the residents put all their faith in the wall's protection, as they employed merely two sentries at the single gate. The detectives and their dog waited patiently as a man herded his four Brahmin back into the settlement. Once the cattle were through, the rancher tailed. Nora tried to follow suit, but the gate was swiftly closed in front of her.

         She took a step back as a guard rushed forward.

         "Woah, woah, hold up ma'am. State your business."

         "Hi, um, we're the detectives?" she answered.

         "Who?"

         She looked back at Nick.

         "We were hired by Carrie Scardino," he said.

         The watchman squared up in agitation once he noted Nick's aberrant appearance. "Any proof of that?"

         "Oh, you could _ask her_ , I suppose," Nick replied pointedly.

         “It’s OK--” the second guard said, waving her hand before turning to other. “Carrie said a synth might show. I just didn't expect one like _him_.”

         “If a Gen 3 came by how would you know?” Nora countered.

         “Fair,” the woman conceded.

         "Guess you've heard, then. We've been having thieves lately. Too stealthy to be common raiders,” the man said, his voice and demeanor no more welcoming than before.

         "Security is beefed up around here. Can't be too careful," the woman said, jostling her impressive automatic.

         "Some people think it might be the Institute," he said to Nick.

         "We're no longer affiliated," Nick said sardonically.

         “Well I sure hope that's true,” the man said. The woman gestured for the pair to enter as the gate swung open once more. “Be on your best behavior. No matter the intentions, folks ain’t gonna be too keen on strangers like you.”

         “Really? That’s news to me,” Nick said with an amount of sarcasm Nora was unaccustomed to.

         “Good luck!” the woman said. Nick replied with a cordial nod.

         “Don’t let people hear you say that,” the man hissed after they had passed.

         “Why?”

         “You don’t wanna be associated with a synth, do ya?”

         “ _Ohhhh..._ ”

         Nora couldn’t stop herself from taking an incredulous look back. It wasn’t as if Nick was out of earshot, surely the watchman could’ve _waited_. She’d give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they weren’t aware of perceived rudeness. The lady seemed pleasant enough.

         Once removing her focus from the guards, it struck her just how abnormal this town was. Granted, nothing was stranger than cities built in baseball stadiums and around historical monuments, but there was something paradoxically frontier about this one. Like Nora’s joke had conjured it into existence. Aside from the shacks that appeared to be farmers living quarters, the three main buildings were Old West style. Bizarre to see in New England, but there had to be some explanation.

         “OK, did we just enter Dry Rock Gulch?” Nora quipped. Nick chuckled.

         “I was waiting for you to ask somethin’ like that. No one here really knows the history of their old town, but from what I’ve deduced the pre-war locals tried to drum up tourism to their pyrite mine via a Gold Rush shtick.”

         “Hilarious. And I bet no one here even gets the novelty of cattle rusltlin’ in a cowboy town.”

         “Nope,” Nick said with a tinge of delight. “Worth the surprise right?”

         “Very,” Nora replied, though she doubted that was the entire reason behind Nick’s evasiveness.

         “That saloon up there is where we’ll hang our hat.”

         Nora could feel the eyes on her as locals ambled by and the trio of woman, dog, and synth passed the rubbernecks loitering atop wooden porches.

         "Oh Jesus, don't look, the synth’s back," one man muttered to another.

         "Are you shitting me? The guards didn't shoot that ugly thing on sight?"

         Nora swung around like an attack dog. "What did you just---"

         Nick pulled her hard. "Don't engage," he said quietly between his teeth.

         She was startled out of her fury. It hurt her pride; and her arm. The men glowered back at the pair but said nothing in response. Dogmeat stopped and whined, sensing tension between the two parties. Nick whistled for him to follow, and as always he obeyed.

         The synth’s grip was not firm, but the unsheathed metal clasped around her dug unpleasantly. Once certain another fight wasn’t in her system, he released her from his protective hold. As he did, he trailed his fingers in a more reassuring manner down her sleeve, and Nora wondered if he even knew his own strength.

         She would have found the saloon’s swinging doors more endearing had the preceding encounter not ripped her from her good mood. The venue’s interior looked just as western as Nora envisioned, with ashtray littered roundtables, and a lengthy bar with mended seating. Despite featuring only one patron, devouring a meal in the corner or the room, it appeared the place got its fair share of use. There was even a piano near the winding staircase leading to a second story.

         Nick strolled up to the counter with an ease as if nothing vile had been tossed at him a minute prior, though Nora continued to prickle with outrage. After he rung a push bell on the table, a grey-haired woman with a ruddy complexion tromped from the back room, wearing a cross expression.

         “I said no, assho--” she stopped. “Oh.”

         "Hello, ma'am," Nick greeted, resting one arm on the tabletop.

         "So you're back, huh?" the innkeeper said gruffly. "We're out of cigarettes, so don't ask."

         The woman seemed coarse by nature and not particularly offensive, but still Nora felt the pointed tone cutting into her.

         "Actually we need a room."

         "We?" She looked over at Nora. "Oh shoot, I just assumed she was next in line."

         "She's my new partner. I'm training her."

         The innkeeper leaned over the counter and peered downward. “Dog too?”

         “Nah, he’s trained already.”

         “Ha,” Nora said flatly.

         “Well, a woman's intuition would do you some good. Maybe she’ll keep your smart mouth in check too."

         "Indeed."

         "You here 'cause that Scardino business, eh?"

         "Sure are."

         "Didn't think they'd let you back in the gates."

         "Apparently the new kids missed the memo."

         "Yeah, not surprising, they've got Brahmin shit for brains." She scrawled something in a oversized ledger. "So for two--"

         "One," Nick interjected. The woman raised her brow as her eyes shifted between the pair. "I don't sleep."

         “Hey-- your business is your business, and I got my own to mind.”

         “As in you wanted an extra fee?”

         “Maybe the dog wanted a bed, I don’t know.”

         “Uh-huh,” Nick replied, unconvinced.

         “Fifteen caps, then.”

         “Ten.”

         The only trace of pleasantry she had slipped from her face. “Why ten?”

         “Have you fixed your roof?”

         She stared him down for a moment, then gave a fluttering eye roll.

         “Fine.” She sighed and traded him a key for his handful of caps.

         Nora swore she heard the word ‘cheapskate’ muttered behind them as they proceeded up the stairs.

         Once they set foot in the rented room, she threw her bag on the bed with force. Her nerves were still on fire.

         “So, kid, you hungry? Thirsty? Wanna rest a spell?” he asked nonchalantly, as if he wasn't a seasoned detective.

          _“Nick...”_ Nora replied, trying to call his bluff with her weary gaze.

         “Hmm?”

         "You know you don't have to take that shit anymore,” she said. “If you can't speak up, then let me."

         He stared her for a moment. "For such a smart cookie, you get some pretty dumb ideas too."

         "Excuse me?"

         "Don’t get me wrong-- I appreciate the sentiment-- but there’s a time and a place.”

         “Like when someone says you should be _shot?_ ” she retorted.

         “You know what they'd think, right? That you're a synth too.” She blinked back, having not considered it. "I can take a heavy beating," Nick continued. "You can't.”

         “I... _I guess_.” She rubbed her still throbbing arm absentmindedly.

         Nick’s shoulders stiffened as his gaze darted to her hand. "Ah. D-Did I  _hurt you_?" Nick asked with a quiet fear she’d never heard before.

         She shrugged, feeling sheepish and knowing it would be a blow to Nick's already shaky self-esteem.

         "Ah-- jeez." He reached his arms out slightly, and then drew them back in shame. "I try my best not to touch people-- it was an impulse, _God I'm sor_ \--"

         "Don't. I'm fine."

         Nick sank down in a chair by the door, looking more like a guilt-ridden child than an old robot. Dogmeat scurried over to sniff at him with concern.

         "What am I doing?" Nick said in an undertone. "What are _we_ doing?” The sentiment jarred her and she studied him pensively. He met her eye, then hastily looked away. "I should really watch my _own_ damn mouth. It was easier when I could bite back and didn't care about the repercussions. But I don't wanna get you hurt too."

         "I hate that you have to go through life with people talking about you like that," she said softly. The notion that some of Nick’s scars may have come from altercations with bigots was one she tried to keep from her mind. “You’ve said I have a way with words. I want to use them to help you too.”

         He lit a cigarette. "You're a sweet kid. You've helped me... reassess a lot of things. But at times like these I also can't help think... you havin’ a friend like me might be too dangerous."

         "I don't care, Nick. I can handle myse--"

         "No. You're on a quest, to save someone-- _your child_ , no less. And if I get not just a friend, but a client killed? Before I see a job through? That just... goes against everything I am."

         He stared bleakly at the floor as smoke swirled around him, catching the sunshine beaming in through the wood shutters. As she struggled to find the right things to say, the scene before her evoked memories of that first night in his office. Unexpectedly, words began filling her mouth, and though she wasn’t certain where they were headed, she let them spill out.

         "Nick... after I woke up... I was driven by revenge. I had nothing else in me but my anger and sadness. But then I met you. And I realized, I can help people again. I can take this curse and use it for good, just like you did. Just like you  _do_ every day. Please don’t have second thoughts about us. I... I'll try to... control my temper, but... being by your side is the only place I want to be."

         His eyes slowly raised and rested on hers once more. "Well, that... that means a lot,” he said, straightening up a bit. “I… didn’t mean to sound like I wanted to call us quits. Just promise me we'll practice better... _self-preservation_ in the future. We got a lotta work ahead of us if we want to clean up this wasteland. Best if we don't get lynched in the process.”

         “OK.”

         "I'm glad you're feeling more confident out here, that’s… that’s what I wanted for you. But I don’t want it to breed complacency."

         She bowed her head, feeling more and more like a naive child. Maybe Nick was right. Maybe surviving so much had made her borderline cavalier.

         "It's not just you. Sometimes when we're together... I forget _all this_ is happening." He chuckled, making vague gestures. "Somehow.”

         The realities of being Nick's partner were becoming clearer to her. It meant she'd have to bear witness the darkness he saw every day. The looks of either fear or contempt. The scalding tones and cold whispers. And often there’d be nothing she could do about it.

         Being advised not to fight on his behalf was a difficult pill to swallow. She wanted to be there in the way she wished someone would’ve stood up for her when she was bullied; for not having parents, for living in a house with too many people, for being the weird-looking kid who didn't act right. It wasn’t nearly as dire as Nick’s treatment, but it reminded her all too much of the crippling pain of words, and why she poured herself into becoming a lawyer.

         “Hey, I know what will make ya feel better,” Nick said, pulling Nora from her thoughts. “I’ll buy you lunch.”

         “And what if people are nasty to you again?”

         “Forget ‘em. Or do what Ellie does and stick your nose in the air like they’re manure under your shoe.”

         ---

         Nora had only just finished her meal of squash stew and corn muffins when someone knocked at the door with fervor.

         “Are you in there?” a wavering voice questioned.

         “Sure are,” Nick replied. Nora looked to him with confusion, brushing breadcrumbs from her shirt. “C’mon in.”

         The door inched open, and the girl shut it gingerly behind her like a child slinking home past curfew. Her dark hair was culled into dense braids, and her equally thick brows were so taught with conviction they became a straight line over her glossy black eyes. Their focus snapped to Nora’s nonplussed face and unfurrowed with inquisition.

         “The new partner I mentioned,” Nick answered.

         The girl’s mouth became an ‘O’ and she approached Nora with a confidence she was not expecting.

         “I’m Carrie; I’m the one who hired you,” she said, shaking Nora’s hand.

         “Nora. It’s nice to meet you.”

         Carrie was about sixteen at the most, but conducted herself with such purpose Nora could tell she was someone burdened with all the responsibilities of an adult. She turned to Nick. “Mr. Valentine, God bless you for taking us on again after--”

         “It’s alright, kiddo, your folks ain’t the first and they won’t be the last.”

         She took a breath and fanned herself as if she might cry. “It’s just the strangest thing and I worry it’s someone we know robbing us. And I don’t want to say the I-Word, Mr. Valentine but--”

         “We all know they pull innocuous stunts as often as heinous ones.”

         “I don’t know which is worse, knowing our neighbors would do that to us or the idea that they’ve been replaced.”

         “Now, now, fretting gets us nowhere. Could be the kids next door being a buncha punks too.”

         “I suppose. I just-- I worry-- my baby brother--” Her put-together persona was crumbling. “People being abducted and he’s so trusting...”

         “I understand. And that’s why I’m here. Kindness deserves to be repaid and nothin’ your parents did was you or little Petey’s fault.”

         “Bless you, you don’t know how much that means to me. I’ll try to... steer you around them. They know I hired you, because they’ll be paying--” Nick interrupted with a laugh. She cringed. “I know-- I made them promise though, and I think they’re properly spooked enough this time.”

         “In any case, I’ll have my right hand gal here handle the transaction. Maybe they’ll trust real flesh over metal. She’s got a...” He eyed Nora, “... soothing presence too.”

         “I try,” Nora quipped, though she was flattered.

         “Till then,” Carrie dug into her jacket and drew out a small bag, “Here’s half.”

         “Jeez, that’s kind of ya.”

         “If anything it’s to make up for last time.”

         “Well let's hope it’s as open-shut, huh?”

         “So why is it you need a detective? You folks don’t have a sheriff ‘round these here parts?” Nora asked. Nick shot her a glare, though not one wholly disapproving.

         “Not anymore. Rumor is he was eaten by mutants.”

         “Goodness. My condolences,” Nick replied.

         “He wasn’t very nice.”

         “No. No, he wasn’t, was he?”

         “And anyhow, he only ever broke up brawls and threw people in jail. He wasn’t the investigating type. Which is why it’d be in _all_ of our best interests not to drive off someone like Mr. Valentine,” she lamented.

         “I agree,” Nora remarked. Nick’s expression was almost a warning to her to _let it be_.

         “I... I know I barged in,” Carrie said, anxiety coloring her tone, “but if you're ready-- I know daylight is getting longer but we’ve been having so many rainstorms--”

         “Noted,” Nick replied. “You just lead the way.”

         ---

         Having Carrie as their escort through the town converted the sharp glares into glances of curiosity, and even the mutterings became less venomous. The act of straining her ears to pick up on whispered gossip became such a distraction, it hit her that she'd stopped listening to the client.

         "-- before then it was just our preserved goods going missing, cured meats, but now the actual harvest is being stolen off the crop."

         She lead them further towards the mine, to an ordinary field of crops that laid in front of a humble sheet metal shack with an adjacent shed.

         “Crops were gotten into again last night, so luckily the clues should be fresh," Carrie said. "Or. I assume, I don’t really know how any of this works.”

         “You’re right on the money."

         "The activity died off for a few days-- I was actually worried you'd be walking here for nothing. But we actually saw it out there this time."

         "Then fill us in."

         "Well, it was late. An hour or so past Petey's bedtime. He was asleep, I was reading by the fire in the main room, mother was bathing, and father went out to get more water from the well. A few minutes after he had left, I heard him shout. I ran to the window, and I saw a figure running. The way it moved was... odd, almost stiff, I wasn't sure it was human..." Her eyes flickered toward Nick as if worried she'd said something offensive. "B-But they were very quick. They vanished into the darkness before any of us could act.”

         “And what’d you do after that?”

         “My father waited all night with a shotgun in hand but no one turned back up. Petey slept through the whole thing, luckily. I don't want him to be frightened, I want him to enjoy his childhood."

         “Don’t you fret, kid, I’ve got a feeling this’ll be cake.”

         “Good. Then I’ll... I’ll leave you all to it. And I’ll keep my parents occupied.” Carrie gave a dutiful nod and then made her way to her shanty dwelling, where Nora could distinguish a figure looming in the entrance.

         “God, I can’t imagine being so self-assured at that age,” Nora said as she watched the teen wave her arms at the person as if shooing them inside. “I was a terrified little kid even in my twenties.”

         “Rarely do I come across a shrinking violet in this world, though I assume it’s out of necessity. But Carrie’s a real good kid. One of those who probably deserves more in life, but is too grown into their roots to chase after it.”

         “Kind of a depressing thought.”

         “Ah, that’s just the way the world works. Always has.” He turned to her. “Now, let’s get to it so that poor girl doesn’t stress herself grey. I’ll see what I can dig up, and then I’ll quiz you on it.”

         “A quiz?”

         “Well, I think you personally learn best when you’re thrown directly into the fire.” She tilted her head, daring him to be more specific. “When have you ever taken well to verbal instruction?”

         Nora attempted to come up with a retort, but gave up once she realized he had a point.

         ---

         "Goodness, there's so many footprints here too, all different,” Nick said after he’d walked her through a lesson in tracking. “There's a reason they had crime scene teams and not just one shmuck doin' all the calculating. Guess the robot thing makes it a tad easier..."

         Nick began surveying the other impressions in the soil, which she inferred was some act of taking mental measurements. Nora turned to amble around the grounds when she met the stare of a small boy.

         “Oh. Hello,” she greeted with surprise.

         “Can I pet your doggy?” he asked, and she noted a strong family resemblance in his serious expression.

         Nora smiled. “Sure.”

         “Hi, puppy,” the boy said, beckoning the dog towards him.

         Dogmeat behaved a bit more aloof than usual, looking back at his people as if unable to take commands from strangers.

         "Go on, boy," Nora said, gesturing with her arms. Dogmeat plodded over to the child, who met him midway and patted him heartily.

         "I love doggies. I love animals,” the boy chirped, now seeming his age. “I wanna be a shepherd when I grow up."

         "Well what a coincidence." Nick smiled. "Dogmeat is already a shepherd."

         The boy giggled.

         "Peter!" called a voice. He swiveled quickly. His stern looking mother stood a few paces back. "Come inside, stop bothering the detectives."

         "He's no trouble," Nick said.

         "Come inside," the woman repeated firmer this time, her gaze like daggers towards Nick.

         Peter gave the dog one last ruffle and trudged back to the house dejectedly.

         "It's like they think I'm a people snatcher,” Nick muttered. Nora frowned. “Anyway, back to task.” He whistled for Dogmeat. “C’mon, boy, do your thing.”

         “What is he looking for?”

         “I dunno. Sometimes y’just have to wind him up and let him go,” Nick said as the pup began snuffling in circles. “Not sure if he can really get a scent off here. This plot belongs to our clients, so there's gonna be a lotta cross-contamination.” Dogmeat followed one back towards the family's house “See?” Nick sighed.

         “Well, what now?”

         “I do have an idea... I just can’t guarantee all parties will cooperate.”

         ---

         The trio wound up in the family shack. Carrie’s parents eyed them with crossed arms, while she stood with rigid shoulders and an equally firm expression. However, the teen could not hide the sweat glistening on her temples, her gaze darting between her family and Nick. Dogmeat shadowed young Peter around like the child had food stashed in his pockets. He tittered and pat the dog, apparently thrilled by the attention.

         "I'd like to see everyone's shoes, if you'd be so helpful,” Nick announced in a calm but pleasant manner. “Just one of each will suffice."

         "The hell is this?” Carrie’s father interrogated. “Are you saying  _we_ \--"

         "We need to rule you out,” Nora interjected. She wasn't certain this was true, but it'd take the heat off her friend.

         Peter looked at his parents, waiting for permission, but the two adults stood unmoving as if they were asked to do something ridiculous.

         "Well?" Nick queried.

         "First shoes, then you'll want to go through our private assets too, is it?" her mother replied.

         "You're making this much more complicated than it is," Nick sighed.

         "It's just I've been thinkin'; maybe the Institute _is_ behind this. It's petty theft, true, but maybe they wanted a reason to send a synth into our midsts to gather information on us."

         "So what, you think the Institute's nefarious plan is to know your shoe size?" Nick cracked.

         "You _hired_ us here to solve your problem. We weren't sent by anyone," Nora said.

         "If you don't want to cooperate, I'll gladly just leave," Nick said.

         "Yeah, why don't you do that,” Carrie's father said. "And don't expect _any_ pay."

         "I already paid half," Carrie said.

         "Carrina, why?" her mother hissed.

         "Because you wouldn't pay him last time either!" she snapped, surprising Nora with her sudden fierceness and, judging from the color draining from her face, herself as well. "It was the only way I could in good conscience ask him back. Please, he's just here to do his job."

         The girl took off her shoe and handed it to Nick. It was much smaller than Nora's, despite the two being the same height, and the ridging on its sole was practically worn to the point of no definition.

         Nick flashed Carrie a small smile. "You're clean-handed. Or, footed, as it were."

         She smiled back apologetically, and then turned to her parents. They begrudgingly removed the tatty shoes on their feet and passed them to Nora rather than the detective. He looked at his protege as if imploring her to use her own investigative skill, like a test. Nora flipped the shoes over, and again they were too worn to make clear patterns in the soil. The man's shoe however appeared comically large. She gave Nick a look of curiosity, and he seemed to get the hint.

         "You folks have any more footwear?" he asked.

         "There's some work boots in the shed," Carrie said.

         "Right, well, we'll just assess those too. Why don't you all sit tight, in case we need your help again."

         Nora heard the father mumble something in disdain, and though she couldn't make out all the words it made her grit her teeth.

         ---

         "Well they were rude,” Nora said, leaning against the doorway of the shed.

         "Difficult for certain, but I've worked for worse,” he said as he crouched down.

         “You don’t think it’d be better if I just like, talked to them?”

         “About what?”

         “Being more civil?”

         “ _Sticks and stones,_ kid, honestly. Besides, it’s better to get a job done through the path of least resistance.”

         “Yeah, they seem to be resisting _so little_ ,” Nora said sardonically, to which Nick replied with a small laugh. “You seem to forget I got you an apology from Danse.”

         “Was that what that was?”

         “OK, half apology,” Nora conceded.

         “More like _quarter_ ,” Nick said.

         She watched him continue rifling through the shoes. "So what's the next step?"

         "I have a real big hunch,” Nick said, before picking out one. "Yep."

         “So we weren't ruling them out...”

         "It isn't what we are or aren't doing... we're just gathering the evidence. It'll tell us what to do. But _you_ tell _me_... have you figured out our mystery?"

         Nora took a breath, a swell of confidence filling her."I... I think so. But I don't know _why_ they did it."

         "That's the fun part,” Nick said.

         Nora couldn't tell if he was being earnest or sarcastic.

         ---

         Nick held up the large boot.

         "That's mine,” the man said derisively as if Nick had failed.

         "Perceptive,” Nick replied coolly. "This is the shoe that made the prints. Same tread, same size."

         "You have no proof,” the man chided.

         "This _is_ proof. And I'm not saying you did it. You're too tall."

         The mother leapt to her feet. "So someone in town tried framing us?"

         "That bastard Karl was always jealous of--"

         "Not frame, specifically, it wasn't personal like that,” Nick interrupted. "They were trying to mask their identity by wearing something that made them appear larger. Maybe they believed their own shoe size would be a dead giveaway to begin with. And they would've been right, except for one factor they couldn't quite alter; their height."

         "How tall were they?” the mother queried.

         "It's probably someone, oh, yay high..." Nick gestured causally, "any ideas?"

         "Well, Peter is the only one that small, but he's a child,” she said with an incredulous smile.

         "Oh?" Nick said, eyeing the boy. "Y’know, Petey, you snuck up on us real easy earlier without _anyone_ noticin’. You didn’t happen to slip out a window--"

         The boy's mother gasped, and his father pounded a fist on the table. "You dirty synth-- accusing our own son--"

         "Don't talk to him like that,” Nora interjected before she could think.

         Carrie put out her hands like she was trying to tame a beast. "Father--"

         "No one asked you to come here again,” he continued.

         "I did!" Carrie cried out.

         The boy stared at the floor, and then his eyes darted around the room like an animal searching for escape, before they finally met Nora's.

         "Get out of our house before I shoot you between the eyes,” the man threatened softly.

         "If you want me to go, I'll go,” Nick replied, putting a hand on Nora's shoulder protectively. “No need to get violent.”

         "Mr. Valentine--" Carrie pleaded.

         “I’m sorry, kiddo, you can keep the rest of my fee.”

         Nora continued gazing at the boy. His brow became more and more furrowed like she was telepathically scolding him.

         "Please. You're not in trouble,” she said softly as his parents continued to argue with Carrie and berate Nick, "We just want to know what's going on."

         "Now _she's_ talking to him!"

         "You leave too!"

         "Why'd you do it?" Nora asked, ignoring the seething parents.

         "Out, before I call the guards!" the mother threatened, stepping between Nora and the boy. Nora backed away, and Nick put his arm in front of her.

         "I... I didn't want them to find him," Peter sniffed.

         "What?" his mother balked.

         "The puppy."

         The room became silent as all eyes fell upon the child.

         “A puppy?” Carrie sighed. “You... you've been hiding a dog?”

         Peter nodded. “I found it when I was playing in the fields outside the wall. It was small and hurt, but I carried it in my pack and took care of it.”

         “That doesn't quite explain why you were stealing food,” Nick said.

         “I feed it when everyone goes to sleep.”

         “Granted, but... why would a puppy need that much?” Nick queried.

         “He eats _a lot_.”

         “Where have you been keeping him?” his mother asked.

         “In the cave, 'cause no one goes in there.”

         She sighed, then looked at Nora with a beet red face, not from anger but from humiliation. “I... I'm sorry... I thought there was something much more... criminal going on.”

         Nora possessed a bit more compassion for the abrasive woman once realizing that she too was just a mother trying to protect someone in a savage and lawless world. Still, the personal attacks on Nick were uncalled for, in her opinion. And if she could get a Brotherhood paladin to mind his manners around a synth, then surely she could coax peace from a farmer.

         “I accept your apology. But you should really be apologizing to _him_ ,” Nora said, looking at Nick.

         Nick seemed taken aback, “Ah-- it's not necessary, I'm just doing--”

         “He came all this way just for the sake of your children, not even expecting pay,” Nora continued.

         “I'm sorry, Mr. Synth,” the woman said.

         “Detective Valentine,” Nora corrected.

         “M-Mr. Valentine. We were terrible to you the first time, and still you came back. And then we treated you even worse.”

         Nick now appeared to be stunned.

         “It's just, the Institute is always on our minds and... you know,” the father said, nearly shamefaced but trying to hide behind a puffed chest. “We need to protect our family.”

         “S-Sure, sure,” Nick replied, still looking relatively floored.

         “Peter you have a big heart but I'm very disappointed in you,” Carrie said to her little brother, who pouted. “You should have told someone you were keeping an animal.”

         “You would have told me to get rid of him.”

         “Now why's that? Our town would benefit from a dog we could train.”

         “Because he's very ugly.”

         “ _Ugly?”_ Nick echoed with a tinge of shock. “Too ugly to see the light of day?”

         Peter nodded. The parents looked at each other with confusion, and then at Nick as if waiting for him to take the reigns. He tried to reassemble an air of professionalism.

         “Say, _errr_... why don't you show us this pup of yours, huh?” Nick requested.

         ---

         “Oh boy. Alright,” Nick groaned. “I ain’t never seen a mutant _puppy_ before.”

         It still retained some ordinary bully-breed features but its body bulged in grotesque ways, like a monster mid-transformation. Judging by the sickly green tinge to its mangy skin it was obviously not just a deformed mongrel. Though, as revolting as it looked… it didn’t seem aggressive.

         It snuffled in the same nonthreatening way Dogmeat did after a play-fight. Its nubbed tail waggled slightly, but it kept a cautious distance from the strangers.

         “Oh Nick, we can’t shoot it,” Nora said.

         “You’ve shot them before.”

         “Yeah, but they were a lot bigger-- and was in self-defense.”

         “Well this is preemptive self-defense.”

         “That’s sick.”

         “Sick? I’m not snipin’ bunny rabbits for gettin’ in the pea patch-- the FEV virus makes things go berserk. Might as well be Cujo over here.”

         “Well, Strong isn’t berserk,” Nora parried. “He’s a reformed cannibal. Loves Shakespeare and steak tartar.”

         “Yeah, that sounds like another classic book killer, don’t it?”

         “Nick, this is real life. Stranger than fiction.”

         “I get giving things the benefit of the doubt, but what kinda mother are you if ya let a boy play with a hundred pounds of mutated muscle and teeth?”

         “I’m not saying let him keep the hound, Christ, Nick,” she hissed. Nick replied with an incredulous shrug. “I’m just saying let it go. Be free. If it gets eaten by a bear, that’s nature.”

         “Lemme guess, you’re the gal who makes her hubby put the spiders outside.”

         “No, _I_ put the spiders outside ‘cause Nate’s scared shitless of them and I don’t want them squished.”

         Nick smirked. “Huh. Guess you ain’t such a hypocrite. Good, ‘cause I don’t put out spiders for no one.”

         “Are you scared of spiders too?”

         “What if they crawl inside me and make a web--” He shuddered. “If I could gag...”

         Nora laughed, and then her eyes fell back on the mutant creature. “If you shoot it, you’re gonna be the one to explain it to that poor kid.”

         Nick sighed loudly and it echoed through the cave. “How do you propose we do this?”

         “The same way you get a dog to the vet.”

         ---

         It wasn’t hard to coax the hound into the wooden crate awaiting on a dolly. Just the smell of jerky and Peter’s cheery voice. The boy proudly described how he made himself look taller by fastening a rake inside his rain jacket, and how he learned to stuff cloth in bigger shoes to make them fit, still not quite grasping the trouble he'd caused everyone. Once they exited the mine the sun was already setting, reflecting off the shack in orange hues. Dogmeat circled the box while whimpering, agitated by the concept that there was a dog somewhere he couldn't see.

         “You’ve done enough, we can take it from here,” the mother said as they returned with the crated beast. “And here, the rest of your fee, as well as the extra we owe you from last time.”

         “Oh no, no, just the fee will do--”

         “We would be out much more if you hadn't solved the case,” she said, “And maybe even worse, that thing could've mauled my boy had it gotten it's full strength.”

         “No more secret critters, alright?” Nora said to him. He nodded.

         “Thank you for everything, thank you for being so understanding,” Carrie said.

         “Don’t worry, there’s always been worse,” Nick answered with a tired yet relieved smile. Nora resisted the urge to smack his arm -- his resignation to the concept of poor treatment borderline depressed her -- but she’d surely given enough of her two cents for one day.

         ---

         The saloon, though a tad sleepy, was filled with locals downing their after work drinks and late night meals. Someone was playing the piano, nothing too impressive or jaunty, but it supplied the place with a novel atmosphere. Eyes again flickered towards the pair, then mumbles, and some snickering. _Maybe they’re just laughing at the dog,_ she told herself, though knew deep down it wasn’t likely. Nora spotted the two men she’d snapped at earlier. They met her gaze, and she lifted her chin like Nick had advised.

         The innkeeper was now slinging booze and passing out platters with fervor, pinker and sweatier than before. Nora had a bit of sympathy, wondering how a woman of her age was able to keep the pace of service all alone.

         Nora turned to Nick. “I’m hungry.”

         “Bet you are. Go on, order, I’ll pay.”

         Nora bought the “cowboy special” and a beer. When the woman returned Nora reached for her order but it was pulled away. The innkeeper eyed her with a knit brow.

         “Can ya take your dinner _upstairs_? Nothing personal, I just... we don't have a sheriff and if things get--”

         “Understandable,” Nick interjected. “We understand, right?” he asked, scrutinizing Nora.

         “Yeah,” she said, calmly but with no warmth.

         “Appreciated,” the woman replied, before rushing over to her regulars flagging her down.

         Nora grabbed her tin plate and drink off the counter and made for the stairs, trying to not appear anything but confident to those she knew were watching her.

         “Don't get upset now,” Nick muttered as they climbed.

         “Whatever, I'd rather be alone with you than in a room full of them.”

         As much as Nora enjoyed group dining, the mood was decidedly cozier in the room with Nick. The music from the piano below them carried, bringing the saloon ambiance to her as she ate her hearty dinner without having to worry about who was saying what.

         “That smells good, I’m jealous,” Nick said.

         “Don’t be,” she replied, scraping off charcoal and giving the gristle to the canine. “Whatever it is, it’s been cremated. Definitely filling, though.”

         The heavy meal of roasted meat and potatoes, along with a stout, filled her to the brim and made her awfully sleepy.

         Readying for bed, she stripped down to her undershirt and spotted Nick watching, moving his head as if trying to catch a glimpse of something. She raised an eyebrow.

         Instead expected sheepishness he had a sullen look on his face. “I’m tryin’ to see if I left a mark.”

         “It’ll bruise, but I get worse impacts, and you know it.”

         “Yeah, well _I_ did it so, it’s kinda... different.”

         “It was an accident.” Nora sighed. “What do you want me to say Nick, ‘yes it’s all your fault and I’m mad at you’? Go on, Mr. Detective, _brood_ if that’s what you want.”

         “I’m just hung-up. This partnering stuff is still a learning curve and I’m trying to process how _impulsive_ I got.”

         “Well, process it. But do it knowing I’m not upset over it. Though... I _might_ whine that my arm hurts so you’ll carry my pack home. If it makes you feel better.” She batted her eyelashes. He gave a short laugh.

         “Do the crime, pay the time, I guess.”

         As Nora washed up, the tell-tale sound of pattering against window glass began, as well as into the bucket by the end of the bed.

         “There’s one of those sudden downpours we were warned about,” Nick remarked.

         “Mmm, just the way I like it,” Nora giggled wistfully and then dropped onto the bed. “I could get used to this.”

         “Rain?”

         “No, _this._ Long journeys, mysteries of the week, saloons. Luckily no gunfights this time.”

         “Yeah, not that you didn’t try pickin’ one.”

         “It’s gonna be a learning process,” she said, fluffing the dense pillow under her. She placed her glasses on the side table. Her vision had mostly corrected itself since the bug incident, but the frames were becoming habitual to wear.

         “Well, you defused a few situations too. If I went alone you bet I would've been kicked out on my ass, or even wound up with another scar.”

         “And I got you an apology. And your fee, twice over,” she added, with a bit of defiance. “I feel like a real lawyer for once.”

         He let out a small exhale. “I suppose an apology _is_ worth its weight in gold.”

         “Glad to be of use.”

         “Even if you weren’t of ‘use’, I still prefer you with me all the same.”

         “Like I said; where you go, I go.”

         “You’re funny.”

         “Besides, I sleep better when you’re with me.”

         “Oh? Am I that boring?”

         She studied him for a moment. “When I’m alone in bed all my thoughts can be so… dark… I think about death, I think about pain, I think about everything that scares me. And then if I get those thoughts with you around, all I have to do is look to my side and I see your eyes, even in the darkness... and I think ‘Oh, there’s my Nick. I’m gonna be fine’.”

         “You could sweet talk a Deathclaw, y’know that?” Nick said gently.

         “You think I can just make up something that cornball? It’s all true. I used to take pills for worrying too much.”

         “Well, I’m honored to be your sleep aid,” Nick quipped.

         She laughed. It made her drowsy. She opened her heavy eyes and saw him engrossed in a crossword, while Dogmeat was fast asleep under the table. Her vision blurred. Something touched her legs. Nora again pried her eyelids open. The room was lit only by a lantern and Nick, no longer in the chair, was instead drawing a blanket up to her shoulders. He lingered close as she blinked sleepily up at him, transfixed as always by his luminescent gaze.

         “There’s my Nick,” she mumbled. He gave a quiet chuckle and patted the blanket softly, before returning to his seat.

         And her last thought as she drifted off, wrapped in warmth and eased by the rain drops, was how she wished he would touch her more.

         ---

         The next morning after a quick breakfast and a more thorough wash in the sink, Nora left the room with her pack slung over her shoulders, rested and ready for another long day on the road.

         A conversation was happening at the counter below her. Nora stopped and listened, peering around the corner of the stairs.

         “--with a boy, yay high?” Nick asked the innkeeper.

         “I've seen lots of unsavory bald men. But kids, no.”

         “I see.”

         “Someone's son been kidnapped, then?”

         “Yeah,” Nick sighed.

         “Par for the course, I guess. This world is garbage. Can't understand why people still bring kids into it. Should just let it die.”

         “That's dark.”

         “Don't you agree?”

         “No. No, I think kids will save us all.”

         “You're naive.”

         “Well, you’re not the first to say that.”

         The wooden step creaked under her foot. The two looked over, and Dogmeat bounded to meet her.

         “Oh, hey, you all set?” Nick asked, seemingly unaware of her eavesdropping. She nodded. “Alright, then I guess we’ll be on our way.”

         “Well, thanks for fixing the roof,” the Innkeeper said.

         “ _Temporary_ fix,” Nick corrected. “You’re gonna need someone up there, and my charity only goes so far. _Cheapskate_.”

         The woman snorted but said nothing else, just giving them a wave of her hand as she returned to the back room.

         ---

         There were fewer whispers and glances as the pair left. Two days without terrible incident appeared to alleviate their concerns. If Nick needed to be a ‘model minority’ then at least she would revel in watching people eat crow afterwards.

         Nick turned to the guards as they exited. “Hey, uh, just FYI, I think the Institute is your least pressing concern.”

         “Why’s that?”

         “You might have some greenskins encroaching on your land.”

         “Ah shit, seriously?”

         “Maybe the rumors about the sheriff were true.”

         “Yeah. Keep a real keen eye, OK? And nose. Those cannibals are brutal, but usually you can smell them first,” Nick said before turning to leave.

         “We will, thank you,” the woman said as they walked away.

         “Thanks,” the man awkwardly called after them.

         Nora looked at Nick and he gave her a small smirk.

         “See there, kid? Just gotta be _patient_ sometimes,” he said under his breath.

         “I still got you your money, dummy,” Nora parried.

         “I know, I know,” he mumbled.

         ---

         The journey back from a case closed generally carried a celebratory air, but for the past few hours Nick had kept to himself. Nora attempted to spark up some sort of conversation but his responses were vague or simply noncommittal sounds. She wouldn’t press too much; Nick tended to _drift_... though usually not for this far.

         “Wait… did you say something?” Nick asked after another bout of silence.

         “Yeah like… five minutes ago.”

         “Oh… sorry. Got uh, stuck in my head I think.”

         “It’s fine. It wasn’t anything important,” Nora replied. “You OK?”

         “Yeah, yeah...” he said. “Maybe we should duck up here for your lunch break.”

         She followed him through a group of young trees shedding spores, trailing slightly behind. His silhouette eclipsed the bright painted sky as pollen continued to drift like spring snow. It was fortuitous Nora didn’t have seasonal allergies, unlike Nick’s poor sneezing secretary.

         “Ah, what luck. Had a feelin’ someone might’ve outposted up here,” Nick said as they discovered a clifftop clearing with a charred fire pit and improvised bench. “Good secure spot for a camp out, that’s for sure.”

         Her supplies clattered as he set down her bag -- of which carrying had been his insistent onus today -- and turned to her with a blank look that promptly became something more befuddled.

         “Oh, y’got... Uh...” He let out a small chuckle and then made a gesture near his head. “You got pollen fluff in your hair.”

         “Oh,” she brushed it. “Did I get it?”

         “No, you just kinda smushed it in more.”

         “Can you get it?” she laughed.

         “Uh…” He pointed apprehensively, “it’s just right there--”

         “Is this about yesterday?”

         “Not... well--”

         “I’m not afraid of you.”

         “But I _hurt_ you.”

         “I’m used to people who don’t know their own strength. I married one too.”

         “He didn’t knock you around did he--”

         “ _No,_ nothing like that. He was just a hunk of muscle, and he tended to flail, sometimes in his sleep.”

         “Well, that doesn’t absolve me of it.”

         “OK, well... It’s just pollen.” She tried shaking it out again. “It’s not important.”

         “It’s gonna drive me crazy to look at.”

         “Then don’t look at me.”

         He frowned, then began gently cleaning the cottony fluff from her bangs with the same caution as if he were plucking out glass. “Maybe I should become a lefty.”

         “Are you a righty?”

         “I’m ambidextrous, dependin’ on the task, but the impulse to use my right hand is a residual from Nick. My right hand is better for the precision stuff, but it ain’t… so good for… well, you know personally, now.”

         “You’d become a lefty just so you could touch me?” she replied, twisting his words to tease him.

         “I…” Nick sighed with an annoyed smile on his face. Nora waited for his usual dismissal, a ‘ _hush’_ , but instead he said: “How would you feel if the answer were ‘yes’?”

         “I’d feel very special,” she said with an air of coquetry to hide her earnestness.

         “As if you aren’t,” he replied soberly. Nora couldn’t find a response, as if her mind erred like a computer program. Instead she merely blinked away what was welling in her eyes. Nick gave a small smile, and then knelt by her bag, pulling out cookware in preparation. She sat on the bench and Dogmeat quickly rested at her feet.

         The detective's esteem for her was disarming at times, a sentiment that would take time to accept. The ‘L-word’ surfaced again in her mind, and though she was compelled to say it there was something still so _charged_ about it. She wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud, even if it was in a platonic sense. The word held a heaviness for her. Often she felt silly saying it to even family… and, well, Nick was just that now. Technically one the very, _very_   few she had in this new life.

         He looked up at her after lighting the fire, as if questioning where her voice had gone.

         “I love this,” she said cryptically, though awaiting a request for clarification.

         “Yeah,” Nick replied after a pause. “Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this year went but damn, thanks for sticking with me as I drive this bus at five miles per hour, and to those of you who are newer thanks for jumping on board! Holidays are coming up, and if yawl who haven't could check out [my main blog](http://television-for-dinner.tumblr.com/tagged/fic+stuff) and [my art/fanworks blog](http://tommytonebender.tumblr.com) side bar I'd appreciate it. (the Net Neutrality debacle's got me shaking in my boots, and this disabled kid needs all the help they can get.)
> 
> In the spirit of good will, I challenge you to go comment on your fave fics that you may have not left feedback for. Let your fave authors know how you feel! It's free and the easiest way to ensure writers keep writing. Make an author's day this season! Us creators are very stressed in general, but especially in these times.
> 
> I hope you have a good winter holiday and I hope the year ends peacefully and if I helped anyone smile or feel good during this hell of a year then damn the work was worth it. <3


End file.
